The Hills Have Aes Sidhe

What Big Teeth You Have

Joey, 11/10/16

Mushroom skin, flaking, visions of Death

To Grandmother's house we go

Fetch, little doggies, fetch the Frankie visions

Grandmother's brew is drunk and so is seen between the wreckage

a mysterious cure

Driven by terror-hope we plunge into the thicket

and harvest the hope,

but the true harvest is still to come.

She is here, trapping us, driving us on.  She comes.

Run!  Run!  Fucking run for your minds!




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